


The Sharpie Incident

by noticemegenpai



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Creampie, Drinking, Felching, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 18:44:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14899940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noticemegenpai/pseuds/noticemegenpai
Summary: A tale of Sharpie misuse, one sex toy mishap, and two idiots who love each other.





	The Sharpie Incident

**Author's Note:**

> And so, without further ado... My first E rated fic! I hope you enjoy it.

Oikawa grinned as he raised his can of beer triumphantly.

“Never have I ever kissed a girl.”

With that, he downed the remainder of the can in one, as Matsukawa snorted and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t the whole point to say something you’ve never done?” Hanamaki asked, pointedly not touching his own can, which remained in front of him where he sat on the floor. Beside him in their impromptu circle, Matsukawa picked up his own can and took a sip. Hanamaki raised an eyebrow at that.

“But Makki, I’m a man of the world! I’ve done everything! There’s nothing worth doing that I haven’t done.”

Hanamaki somehow resisted the urge to make a sex joke, biting his lip to try and withhold his laughter. Iwaizumi was having less success, cackling as he mussed up Oikawa’s hair, his cheeks ruddy. Apparently, drunk Iwaizumi was affectionate Iwaizumi.

“Okay, Matsukawa, your turn!”

“Mm... Never have I ever kissed a guy.”

Hanamaki nearly choked on his own spit.  _ Oh.  _ So  _ that  _ was how Matsukawa was playing. The kissing a girl thing suddenly made more sense.

Taking a note from Matsukawa’s book, Hanamaki let his drink stay on the floor for another round. Oikawa, however, looked like he’d just been caught jacking off in a university bathroom. He stared at Matsukawa in horror for a painfully long moment, before reaching for the six pack and unhooking a new can from the plastic rings. The whole thing was drawn out for so long that everyone in the room was moved to silence, watching an extremely embarrassed Oikawa tapping three times on the can with his nail – a habit he’d had since he was a child, claiming he didn’t like the shock of drinks spurting everywhere on him, and that tapping it popped all the bubbles – and cracking it open. After finally taking the tiniest sip known to man, he set down his can on the floor, and the spell was broken. The whole room erupted into laughter.

“My, my!”

“Shut up Makki,” Oikawa huffed, still bright red.

“Was this mystery man also  _ worth doing? _ ”

“Shut  _ up _ !”

Matsukawa assumed he was the only one to notice Iwaizumi quickly grabbing his can to take a sip, too. If he pointed it out, he’d probably say that he was just having a drink, and that it had nothing to do with the game. But Matsukawa wondered.

His train of thought was cut off as he glanced to his side, his eyes locking with Hanamaki’s. The noise from the other side of the room seemed to fade away, his entire focus captured by his friend. Maybe it was because it’d been a while, or maybe it was the alcohol – could alcohol do that? – but the eye contact alone made Matsukawa shiver. All at once, all he could think of was Hanamaki’s soft lips on his own, kissing him slowly, lazily, like they so often did. Hanamaki’s fingers trailing down his bare chest, thumbs grazing his nipples, Hanamaki’s fingernails digging into his thighs, leaving marks he’s have to discreetly buy more foundation to cover the next day. He thought about their last time together - in Hanamaki's bedroom, kneeling and facing each other, their breath hot on each others’ necks as they stroked each other to completion.

Excitement coursed through his veins at the thought of pulling Hanamaki away right now and into the bathroom on the other side of Oikawa’s bedroom wall, clamping his jaw shut as Hanamaki bent him over the edge of the bath and fucked him slowly, both of them clamping their teeth together and squeezing their eyes shut, trying not to make a sound.

But no. He mentally shook himself. Neither of them were sober. He’d never allow something like that to happen under those circumstances, and that was that. 

Hanamaki was still staring at him, though. Maybe he could tell what he was thinking. While his poker face was indecipherable to most, Hanamaki had always had a way of knowing these things. Hanamaki, the Matsukawa Whisperer.

“Okay! Iwa-chan, your turn!”

Both of them snapped back to attention, and the night continued.

 

* * *

 

“Iwa-chan, ‘m not tired.”

“Yeah you are. Go to sleep, idiot.”

“Nnnh…”

After that, there was silence. Two people’s worth of gentle snoring soon followed, as in sync in sleep as they were awake.

Hanamaki wasn’t tired at all. He turned in his futon - a spare, borrowed from Oikawa - then shuffled closer to Matsukawa on the floor.

“Issei,” he whispered. Matsukawa made a small noise in response. “You awake?”

“Mm… Not for long, though. It’s time for beddybyes, Takahiro.” He was drawling – from tiredness or drunkenness, Hanamaki wasn’t sure.

“I’m not tired, though.”

“Well… I am. Night.”

Hanamaki blinked, then chuckled softly. The alcohol hadn’t affected Matsukawa’s usual bluntness, clearly.

“Night, then.”

He wasn’t expecting a response. Still, one came.

“Night, ‘Hiro. Love you.”

 

* * *

 

Hanamaki left quickly the next morning, waking up before the others and running off without a word. He could make up an excuse later. For now, he just needed to escape the consequences of his actions.

So, yes, he was very much in love with Matsukawa, and he had been since high school. But having ended up in a comfortable friends with benefits situation with him in recent months, he now lived in fear of letting his feelings slip and accidentally destroying their entire relationship. Until last night, he’d been certain that said feelings were unrequited, meaning Matsukawa’s declaration had come as something of a shock. Of course, the  _ reasonable  _ thing to have done would not have been to panic, grab the nearest Sharpie, and scrawl “I love you too” on his sleeping best friend’s forehead, along with a nicely detailed dick on his cheek for good measure. But being not only Hanamaki Takahiro, but  _ drunk  _ Hanamaki Takahiro, it had seemed like a perfectly reasonable reaction at the time.

It could’ve just been the alcohol talking, he reasoned with himself. There was no way of knowing whether there was any truth in what Matsukawa had said unless he asked him directly - but that was never going to happen. Put simply, Hanamaki was a coward. He’d been in love with Matsukawa for years, convinced himself he was happy with their current arrangement, and firmly ignored the butterflies in his stomach whenever they so much as made eye contact - never mind when they got together for one of their signature ‘study sessions’ every once in a while. Now, here he was, knowing that he might actually have a chance, but still too scared to just go with it. The Sharpie incident was already risky enough. He still didn’t know how he was going to explain that.

Thankfully, the journey back to his flat from Oikawa’s was short. He slipped past his flatmate in the kitchen, going straight to the cool darkness of his room to sleep some more. He didn’t want to be awake for when the worst of his hangover set in.

 

* * *

 

Matsukawa let out a pained groan as someone drew the curtains. He groaned louder as an annoyingly chipper voice made itself known.

“Rise and shine, Mattsun! Did you want any breakfa…”

Oikawa left his sentence unfinished as he walked over to where Matsukawa lay, kneeling down beside him. Then, without warning, he grabbed Matsukawa’s chin, turning his face towards him. Matsukawa very nearly bit his hand off, flailing in his sleeping bag and briskly pulling away.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Oikawa’s lips were pressed together, barely repressing his laughter.

“Oh, nothing, Mattsun. I was just thinking that that’s a good look for you.”

Matsukawa barely had a chance to react before Oikawa bolted without any further explanation, laughing like a hyena, leaving him alone again in the bedroom with his throbbing headache.

Hazily deciding that it was probably just more of Oikawa’s usual bullshit, he eventually dragged himself out of his futon and to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Only when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror did he finally understand what Oikawa had meant.  
  


* * *

 

 

Hanamaki woke up again in the early afternoon. When he checked his phone, bleary-eyed, he was slightly puzzled to find nine separate Snapchat messages from Matsukawa, sent not long before he woke up.

He clicked on the earliest one, and his stomach flipped when he was met with a selfie from an extremely pissed-off looking Matsukawa, Sharpie art still intact. The caption, simple and to the point, was “WHO IS RESPONSIBLE”. The next few were of his face getting steadily redder as he tried to scrub off the pen – clearly, he wasn’t having much success. After going through them all, Hanamaki locked his phone, buried his face in his pillow, and let out a long, strangled noise.

At the very least, Matsukawa didn’t necessarily suspect it was him. Given the rather general nature of his captions, it seemed clear that the messages had been sent to more than one person. Maybe he could get away with it.

Still, a small part of him  _ wanted _ Matsukawa to know. Maybe if he remembered what had happened the night before, he’d bring it up again and they could just talk it out like the sensible adults they were meant to be. Maybe Hanamaki could even have a boyfriend by the end of the day. But the fact remained that Matsukawa clearly did  _ not  _ remember, and Hanamaki was not about to bring it up again himself. For now, he’d just play it cool. He’d reply to the Snaps later with some dumb comment.

 

* * *

 

“Hey. So, I know you said you didn’t know who did it… But between you and me, you know, right?”

Hanamaki had skilfully been avoiding the topic for the past two days. It was Monday now, and Matsukawa had surprised him by turning up at his campus so they could have lunch together. While they went to separate universities, it had always been implicit that moving too far away from each other was out of the question. The same went not just for the two of them, but Oikawa and Iwaizumi too - while Oikawa went to the same university as Matsukawa, Iwaizumi was studying at another university entirely, a little further out but still close enough that they could meet up regularly.

“I told you,” he responded, his mouth full of sandwich. “I don’t.”

“I know when you’re lying. What, did one of them threaten you? Blackmail you? Are they that afraid of my wrath? Or… Was it you all along?”

Hanamaki could’ve screamed. Still, maybe this was the opportunity he’d been looking for. His way out. He certainly wasn’t panicking. Not at all.

“Well, if you must know,” he said, then swallowed his mouthful, “and you have to promise not to tell him I told you so. It was Iwaizumi.”

“Iwaizumi…?”

“Yeah. I woke up and caught him drawing on you. He glared at me and gestured cutting his throat. I took that as a signal not to say anything.”

“Iwaizumi wrote “I love you too” and drew a dick on my face?”

“Yeah. God knows why.”

“Does he… I mean, d’you think…”

“Think what?” Something wasn’t sitting well with Hanamaki. Maybe it was the whole lying-through-his-teeth-to-Matsukawa thing. Maybe it was where this conversation was going.

“You know. Might he like me? Like  _ that _ ? I can’t think why else he’d do it. Would he really be enough of a dumbass to write a confession on my forehead? And draw a  _ dick  _ on me?”

Hanamaki swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Maybe he panicked.”

“Huh.”

Matsukawa said nothing else for a while. They ate together in without another word, looking out at the view from where they sat in the park, on a slightly damp bench. The park was almost deserted, save the occasional dog-walker, the recent rain warding others off.

Only when they’d both finished eating did Matsukawa speak again.

“…Do you think I said something to him while I was drunk? Did I tell him I loved him or something? I know I can say some stupid shit when I’ve had a few, but if it was him and if what he wrote was genuine, I should probably set things straight.”

Hanamaki’s eyes widened and he sat bolt upright, shaking his head.

“No. Don’t do that.”

“Relax, I won’t mention it was you who told me. For all he knows, Oikawa could’ve woken up and seen him, too.”

“Issei, don’t.”

“It’ll be fine. What’ve you got to worry about?”

“I...”

Hanamaki trailed off as Matsukawa stood up, throwing his sandwich wrapper in the bin next to the bench.

“It’ll be fine. Anyway, what I really came here to ask was if you wanted to come round tonight. You know, to  _ study _ . It's been a while.”

Hanamaki was still numb, the question catching him off-guard. His skin prickled on the back of his neck, his chest tight.

“I’m busy tonight. Another time.”

Any other time, he’d be desperate for another night with Matsukawa. But today, all he felt was the need to get away.

 

* * *

 

“…And he  _ bowed _ to you, Iwa-chan? The politeness… Mattsun, please marry me.”

“I was just trying to be respectful. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.”

The four of them were walking home after a friendly volleyball match in the park for fun, a few days after Hanamaki had told Matsukawa the ‘truth’ about the Sharpie incident. Iwaizumi looked somewhere between embarrassed and annoyed.

“While I appreciate that, you didn’t have to go and treat me like Oikawa treats one of his fangirls when they give him a love letter.”

“Oikawa would  _ not _ bow to one of his fans.”

“Makki! I am always very polite to my fans!”

“Do you bow in apology when you reject them?”

“Uh… Not exactly. But that’s because that’s too polite for the situation!”

While Hanamaki was doing a surprisingly good job of not showing just how much he wanted to die, he could tell from a mile away that Matsukawa wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

Matsukawa was sincerely regretting pulling Iwaizumi aside to ‘let him down lightly’. After working himself up about it so much, he had apparently forgotten the possibility that it was just some dumb drunken behaviour on Iwaizumi’s part, just as much as him telling Iwaizumi  _ he _ loved him would’ve been. The whole thing was a mess, and a prime example of why he shouldn’t overthink things so much.

The others continued to chat, the subject quickly changing from Matsukawa’s cock-up and Iwaizumi’s unfounded rejection to their exam timetables for that semester, which had just been released. Matsukawa, however, remained silent, consumed by his thoughts.

If he was honest, he was far more glad that Iwaizumi  _ didn’t _ love him than he’d like to admit. In fact, he’d been hoping Hanamaki would come forward and tell him it was him all along… But of course, he didn’t. No matter how much he wished for it, Hanamaki confessing to him wasn’t something that was going to happen. He thought he'd accepted that years ago.

Matsukawa wasn’t quite sure when exactly he’d fallen for him. He guessed it was sometime in their second year of high school, when he’d suddenly found his chest aching when he thought of going even a day without seeing him. Somewhere along the line, Hanamaki became a necessity to him. Being without him for too long left him feeling lost, incomplete - so naturally, going to different universities had been a huge blow to him. When they first started, he’d convinced himself that they’d stop talking to each other, and Hanamaki might find a new best friend, as childish as it sounded. The idea of losing him was something he couldn't bear thinking about.

His thoughts consumed by Hanamaki as the four of them walked, he found himself desperate to be close to him again. Matsukawa had not been unaware of the fact that Hanamaki had been slightly distant of late, and it worried him.

Eventually, the four of them reached the crossroads where they usually went their separate ways. Oikawa and Iwaizumi went off together with a wave, leaving Hanamaki and Matsukawa standing together on the opposite side of the road. For some reason, Matsukawa couldn’t quite bring himself to look Hanamaki in the eye as he spoke, awkwardly scratching his neck.

“So… Do you want to come round?”

“Can’t. I’m busy.”

“I don’t want to ‘study’, if that’s what you’re thinking. Or maybe we could.  _ Actually _ study, I mean.”

Hanamaki blinked, then nodded slowly, only afterwards realising how he’d basically admitted to not wanting the alternative. Still, there was nothing wrong with that. He decided not to dwell on it. 

“Okay. Let’s go, then.”

 

* * *

 

“So… What’s been up with you, lately?”

“Huh?”

The two of them were sat on opposite sides of the kotatsu in Matsukawa’s room, unopened textbooks already lying in front of them, abandoned.

“You’ve been… Distant.”

“Mm. I hadn’t noticed.” It was an utter lie, but Hanamaki couldn’t think of a better explanation.

“You know… I’ve been thinking. If this thing we’ve got going on… If you’re not into it anymore, we can stop. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, especially not because of me.”

Hanamaki was almost stunned into silence. For the first time in what felt like years, he couldn’t get a read on Matsukawa’s expression. It was completely neutral.

“No. That’s not it. I want it, I really do, it’s not that…”

“Then what? Come on, Takahiro. I’ll understand if you really do want to keep whatever’s troubling you a secret, but I'm used to us telling each other everything.” Well, almost everything. Everything but that one slightly important massive deal of a thing.

Hanamaki was at a loss. In a dream world, he’d tell Matsukawa the truth right there and then, and Matsukawa would accept his feelings and they’d ride off into the sunset together. Or Matsukawa would ride Hanamaki into the sunset. Either way suited him.

As it stood, he wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

“I’m sorry. There really is nothing. Now, can you please test me on those English idioms again?”

Matsukawa nodded, maintaining an unfazed expression while his heart sank.

“Sure.”

 

* * *

 

Another week passed, and Hanamaki was getting extremely frustrated. Still feeling guilty about his lie, and now hyper-aware of the possibility of ruining his friendship forever by committing the heinous act of telling his friend he liked him, he’d avoided going round to Matsukawa’s completely since his last visit. Unfortunately, this had the unwanted side-effect of leaving him pent-up, without his usual way of getting off. He’d never explicitly mentioned it to Matsukawa, but Hanamaki had barely masturbated alone in the months since they’d taken their friendship to the next level (and more often than not, when he had, he’d had Matsukawa on the phone, guiding him through it and telling him exactly what to do).

But today, Hanamaki planned to break his unspoken promise. Fed up of waiting, and needing more than just a quick wank in the shower, he’d gone out earlier that day with a singular purpose in mind. Now, he was lying on his bed, biting his lip as he fingered himself open, with cardboard and plastic packaging strewn across the floor by his bed. The smell of latex assaulted his nostrils, but he tried to convince himself that it was sexy - after all, it was a reminder that his release wasn't far away.

The dildo was bright purple with an elegant (could such a thing really be called elegant?), pearlescent finish. The main selling point, though, had been the suction cup on the base. Hanamaki fantasised about sticking it to the linoleum floor in his bedroom, or the shower wall - wherever he used it, he was convinced it would be the answer to all of his problems. Even without Matsukawa, he would have a magnificent time.

 

* * *

 

He did not have a magnificent time.

Things weren’t going off to a great start when he first stuck the dildo to the floor - he had far more trouble just guiding it in than some of his ‘educational’ materials would have had him believe. That said, he did get there eventually, after much trial and error. After lowering himself down on it slowly, whining at how it stretched him, Hanamaki took a moment to adjust to the feeling of it. Until now, the only cock - faux-cock inclusive - he’d had up his ass was Matsukawa’s, and unsurprisingly, this was an altogether different sensation. He eventually sucked in a deep breath through his nose, started to pull back up… And that was where his problems really began.

Hanamaki had furrowed his brow as he stopped, suddenly feeling a suspicious lack of resistance. Of course - the thing had come unstuck. Slightly frustrated, but chalking it up to something like lube trapped under the suction cup, Hanamaki removed the dildo from himself, sticking it back to the floor.

Only the same thing happened on the second attempt, too.

Increasingly annoyed but not quite willing to give up, he gave it one more try in his bedroom before getting up and stomping over to the bathroom, dildo in hand. Surely,  _ surely _ it would work in the shower, he thought.

Of course, he thought wrong.

Punching the shower door, with the dildo still wedged up his ass and pointedly  _ not _ stuck to the wall, Hanamaki felt nothing but pure indignation and fury. Blood boiling, he opened the shower door, removed the pearlescent failure of a sex toy from himself, and proceeded to throw it, full force, across the room. It hit the far wall with a  _ thunk _ , then fell to the floor in a sad, lube-y puddle. 

He really, really missed Matsukawa.

 

* * *

 

Unbeknownst to Hanamaki, Matsukawa was also equally pent-up. Unlike Hanamaki, though, Matsukawa had decided that he wouldn’t do anything about it until one of two situations arose - either Hanamaki was the one to break his dry spell, or they broke off their agreement altogether. That said, the latter situation would probably leave him not feeling in the mood for anything like that for quite some time.

Instead, he did what he could to distract himself. He read, he studied, he hung out with his friends - both from high school, and newer ones from his course - and yet every time, he inevitably ended up getting distracted from all three, his mind still trying to figure out just what on earth was going on with Hanamaki.

It was as clear as day that Hanamaki was avoiding him. His first thought had been that he wanted to stop the ‘benefits’ aspect of their friendship, but with Hanamaki firmly denying that that was the case, he tried to come up with other reasons. Maybe he was stressed, and he just needed some time to himself. Maybe he’d found someone else, but couldn’t figure out how to tell him. Matsukawa hoped to god it wasn’t that. He didn’t know if he could bear seeing Hanamaki with someone else. Most recently, he’d started to worry that Hanamaki was unwell. His heart dropped at the thought of him alone in his room, crying to himself, with no-one there to support him. Maybe he didn’t want anyone to see him like that. Matsukawa’s worry quickly turned to panic. While Hanamaki was always the known pessimist of their circle, it wasn’t unheard of for Matsukawa to jump to the worst possible conclusion - that, combined with his tendency to overthink things, sent him into a spiral of worry.

In the end, he decided to just text him. He felt a further twinge of sadness when he saw that their last conversation had been four days ago - usually, their phones would have to be forcibly removed from them when they were apart.

**_[Conversation with: Hanamaki Takahiro]_ **

**_You:_ **

_ Hey. _

After deliberating for a moment, he added another message after his first.

**_You:_ **

_ I miss you. _

Matsukawa slipped his phone back into his pocket and turned back to his textbook. He was at least attempting to study when he felt his phone vibrate, and he pulled it back out quickly, his heart racing.

**_Takahiro:_ **

_ I’m sorry. I’ve been snowed under with coursework _

**_You:_ **

_ You’ve been saying that for ages now _

_ I’m worried about you. _

**_Takahiro:_ **

_ Don’t be. I’m fine, really _

Matsukawa sighed, shaking his head as he typed his response. While he was worried, he was also getting a little tired of Hanamaki’s same old spiel.

**_You:_ **

_ Did I do something wrong? I'd rather you just tell me if I have. _

**_Takahiro:_ **

_? _

_ What? No _

**_You:_ **

_ Okay. Then can we meet up? Just for lunch _

_ As I say. I miss you. _

**_Takahiro:_ **

_ Sure thing. Today? _

**_You:_ **

_ Yeah _

_ Meet by the fountain in half an hour? _

**_Takahiro:_ **

_ Make it 45 _

_ I’m… Not exactly decent rn _

Matsukawa’s eyes widened at the implication. Clearly things weren’t  _ too _ awkward between them, then, if Hanamaki was still willing to be that open. He couldn’t help but feel relieved.

**_You:_ **

_ N i c e. _

_ See you there then _

He smiled as he locked his phone, dropping it on the bed beside him and getting up with a renewed sense of purpose.

Meanwhile, Hanamaki was still gripping his phone in his hand, reading over the messages until the words were seared into his retinas. He wasn’t sure what to think anymore. He missed Matsukawa too, so much his chest ached. But after a week of minimal contact, preceded by a period of definite awkwardness on his part, he was nervous. What if, when he got there, he realised that something between them had changed? What if it would never be the same again?

Matsukawa, clearly, was not the only one prone to overthinking.

 

* * *

 

Forty-five minutes on the dot after their conversation, Matsukawa was waiting by the fountain at the end of the high street, just as planned. With the weather getting colder, he’d opted to break out his favourite wool coat and cashmere scarf. He doubted Hanamaki would dress for the weather, though. Matsukawa always noticed how cold his hands were, and Hanamaki certainly didn’t do anything to help the matter.

Sure enough, he showed up a couple of minutes later in a t-shirt and a light jacket. Matsukawa resisted the urge to roll his eyes affectionately, and walked over to him.

“Hey.”

“...Hey.”

They stood in silence for a moment, neither of them sure of what to say.

“So… How are you, Issei?”

“I’m good. I… I’ve really missed you, though.”

“Ah. So you said. Well, I’ve missed you too.”

“Oikawa’s been saying you’ve probably gone and got a girlfriend.” Actually, Matsukawa had been telling  _ himself _ that, but the details were unimportant.

“What? Well, it’s the first I’ve heard of it if I do…”

Matsukawa internally breathed a sigh of relief.

“So… No boyfriend either then, I presume?”

“Nope. I’m as single as ever.”

_ Thank God,  _ Matsukawa thought.

“Just checking. I’d never speak to you again if you were holding out on telling me something  _ that _ big.”

“Well… Actually, Issei… She’s technically not my girlfriend. She’s my wife.”

“Shut up, you idiot.”

“You deserve to know the truth!”

“I am wounded. And here I was, with my best man speech all prepared. Now it’ll never get used.”

“You think you’d be my best man?”

“Well, obviously. Who else? Oikawa?”

“Mm,” Hanamaki responded. Still smiling, they started walking towards the park. Despite their initial reservations, it seemed nothing had really changed at all.

 

* * *

 

“...So you  _ threw it at the wall.” _

“I was pissed off! Honestly, for the amount it cost I expected better…”

Hanamaki wasn’t too sure how they’d got onto this topic, but he was visibly more relaxed than he had been in a long time. Worries quickly forgotten on both sides, they’d slipped back into their old routine, sharing gossip and quickly forgetting the meaning of the phrase “too much information”. 

They were walking and talking, taking a slow stroll around the park, after which they planned to get burgers at the closest fast food joint. They were easily pleased, and Hanamaki was all too happy to indulge Matsukawa with his favourite food.

Matsukawa was still shaking with laughter as he walked.

“I can see it now. I want this image permanently etched on my brain. Hanamaki Takahiro, enraged, throwing a used dildo across his shared bathroom like a javelin.”

“I swear to god…”

“If only you’d tossed it up into the air and spiked it.”

“ _ Stop _ .”

“Dildo volleyball: see the world premier in Hanamaki’s bathroom!”

“Volleydildo, surely?”

“Damn, you’re right. I’ve been so blind, Takahiro. Since I last saw you, I’ve lost my way…”

They carried on like that for a while, apparently not noticing the unimpressed looks they got from some members of the public. Eventually they decided to take a break from walking, and sat down on their usual bench.

There were a few beats of comfortable silence, before Hanamaki spoke up.

“I’m sorry for being weird lately. And I’m sorry for denying it. I guess I got caught up worrying about something, and I ended up way overthinking it.”

Matsukawa chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“I understand. Really. But next time, remember you can talk to me if you’re in a bad place. I wasn’t just paying lip service when I said I was worried. I really do care about you.”

He almost forgot to breathe when he realised what he’d said. Hanamaki was in a similar state, heat rising in his cheeks. Maybe Matsukawa had just meant it as a friend thing, or maybe…  _ Oh, to hell with it, _ he thought, words spilling out, with no way of stopping them.

“It was me. I wrote on your face, I drew the dick.”

To say that Matsukawa was taken aback would be an understatement. He’d long since accepted that it was just Iwaizumi’s dumb drunken antics and more or less forgotten about the whole thing. This was certainly out of the blue.

“Why… What?”

“I said it was Iwaizumi, but it was me.” Hanamaki was staring intently at the ground, physically unable to make eye contact with Matsukawa.

“So… You lied?”

Hanamaki’s voice couldn’t have been any smaller.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

More silence followed. After a few seconds, Matsukawa rested a comforting hand on Hanamaki’s back, making Hanamaki jolt in surprise. Matsukawa flinched back, removing it like he’d been burned.

“And… You lied about it because…?”

“I don’t know. Probably thought it’d be easier.”

“But you know I wouldn’t have been pissed off, right? I mean, getting that Sharpie off was a nightmare, and I  _ did _ have the faint outline of a dick on my face for a day afterwards, but that sort of thing’s not exactly unusual for us.”

Hanamaki almost laughed. Matsukawa was so infuriatingly dense, it was unreal. At this point, he truly just wanted to get this whole affair over with.

“I lied because I didn’t want you knowing I confessed, you idiot. You told me you loved me before we went to sleep, and I panicked.”

Matsukawa was rendered utterly speechless. 

So… He’d told Hanamaki he loved him. Hanamaki wrote that he loved him too - and he’d just described his act as a  _ confession.  _ This couldn’t be real.

Alarmed by Matsukawa’s lack of response, Hanamaki continued.

“I’m really sorry, I know you don’t feel the same and I lied because I was scared of scaring you off, and I understand if you want to distance yourself, and we should stop the benefits thing because I know it’ll just be weird--”

He was cut off by Matsukawa clapping him on the back with his hand. Stunned into silence, Hanamaki finally turned to look at him - and his heart was in his mouth when he realised that Matsukawa’s eyes were glassy, his face turned slightly away. His other hand was clenched into a fist in his lap.

“We’re both idiots,” he said, voice unsteady. “So… You love me?”

Hanamaki nodded, his heart racing. The park, the other passers-by, the world… They all fell away. All that he was aware of was himself and Matsukawa.

Matsukawa’s lips curved up into a grin, dropping his hand from Hanamaki’s back, moving to take his hand instead. Hanamaki’s palms were sweaty; not that he minded.

“I’ve loved you for years. I can’t believe this. I always thought-”

The wind was knocked out of him as Hanamaki surged forwards, wrapping him in a death grip of a hug. Neither of them needed words anymore. The gentle shaking of Hanamaki’s body against his as he held him was enough.

 

* * *

 

Their lunch plans long since abandoned, the two of them had rushed home as fast as they could manage, not letting go of each others’ hands for even a moment longer than they had to. When they finally reached Matsukawa’s bedroom, they launched themselves at one another, lips crashing together clumsily as Hanamaki kicked the door shut behind him. Only parting to gasp for breath, Matsukawa backed Hanamaki up against the door, slotting his knee between his legs, eliciting a needy moan from Hanamaki. Hanamaki responded by slipping a cold hand underneath Matsukawa’s jumper, fingers tracing over the lines of his abdomen before rising up and settling on an already hard nipple. He ghosted the pad of his thumb over the sensitive nub, then rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, a choked noise escaping Matsukawa’s lips as he repeated the motion.

Matsukawa was shaking with need. He’d missed this so much - their usual fight for dominance, both of them trying to make the other submit first as if it were some sort of competition. Today, though, Matsukawa was more than willing to ultimately let Hanamaki take the reins. 

Hanamaki seemed to get the message, regaining enough of his composure to push Matsukawa back, back, until he all but fell backwards onto the bed. He then straddled Matsukawa’s lap, shamelessly grinding his still-clothed erection down against Matsukawa’s own, both of them letting out guttural moans as they rutted against each other like animals in heat.

“I -Issei,  _ fuck _ -”

“‘Hiro, please…”

Hanamaki’s breathing had a staccato rhythm to it as he finally lifted his shirt over his head, impatient. Matsukawa followed suit, his curls left even more of a mess than usual when he removed his turtleneck jumper. Hanamaki’s mouth went dry at the sight of Matsukawa beneath him, defined chest and soft stomach bare, his pupils blown with lust. But knowing what he now did, he could see something other than just pure want there - Matsukawa’s gaze was filled with lust, but also adoration. Hanamaki’s hips slowed to a halt, his head falling and burying in Matsukawa’s chest.

“Why’d you stop?” Matsukawa asked, his breaths ragged.

“I just,” Hanamaki said, voice wobbling, “I- I can’t believe it. I love you so much, Issei.”

Matsukawa’s breathing slowed to a slightly calmer pace, and he raised a hand to caress Hanamaki’s cheek.

“I love you too.”

They leaned into each other again; only this time, the kiss was gentler. This was what they’d both wanted for years. They ought to savour the moment.

When they finally parted again, a fine string of spit still connecting their kiss-swollen lips, Hanamaki smiled, then leaned in again to press a kiss to Matsukawa’s collarbone. Matsukawa’s breath hitched.

“Please. I need you, ‘Hiro.”

Hanamaki nodded, hand gliding back down over Matsukawa’s stomach and settling on his crotch, pressing the heel of his hand down in a circular motion. It was enough to tear an embarrassingly high-pitched whine from him. Hanamaki bit his lip and grinned, suddenly overcome by the thought that these noises were for him, and him alone. He was far more possessive than he’d like to admit.

“D’you know how many times I had to stop myself from saying something during sex? Telling you how much I love you. It’s been  _ so hard _ …”

“Y- Yeah, me too… Feel like I didn’t say enough…”

“Say enough?”

“I always… Held back. Didn’t want you suspecting me. But you’re so beautiful, ‘Hiro.”

_ I am not going to cry during sex _ , Hanamaki thought.  _ Nope. No way. _

Tears still prickled his eyes anyway as he shuffled aside, cupping Matsukawa’s crotch and leaning in for another slow, open-mouthed kiss as he stroked him gently through his pants. When they parted, Hanamaki rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, laughing slightly.

“How dare you make me this emotional when we’re about to fuck, Issei.”

“I’m just telling the truth.”

“I hope you’re aware that I’m going to blow you within an inch of your life, now.”

On that note, he slid off the bed and to the floor, kneeling in front of Matsukawa and finally unzipping his fly. Matsukawa sat up and raised his hips slightly so Hanamaki could pull his pants off, which he did without ceremony. The sight of precum staining Matsukawa’s boxers went straight to Hanamaki’s already achingly hard cock. Hanamaki kissed each of Matsukawa’s knees gently - a sight that would've made Matsukawa blush if his face wasn't already burning - before parting his legs and settling between them, leaning in to mouth at the outline of his erection. Matsukawa inhaled sharply, hand resting in Hanamaki’s short hair.

Hanamaki took his time, laving his tongue over the fabric and leaving a further damp patch in his wake. Matsukawa’s fingers tightened in his hair as he shut his eyes tightly, mouth opening in a silent plea for more. Hanamaki was happy to comply.

His elegant fingers hooked around the elastic waistband of Matsukawa’s boxers, pulling them down, making sure the fabric dragged teasingly against his hard cock. Matsukawa swallowed, opening his eyes only for them to flutter shut again as Hanamaki wrapped his hand around him at the base, and immediately started to lavish him with attention. He kissed the tip lightly, then dragged his tongue along the underside, finally taking just the head into his mouth. The bitter taste of precum only stood to arouse him further. Matsukawa dominated his senses - the taste on his tongue, the damp, musky smell of sex that filled his head, and the sound of Matsukawa’s quiet moans and hitched breaths were all completely intoxicating. 

Eventually, Hanamaki pulled off Matsukawa’s cock with a lewd  _ pop _ , and looked up. Matsukawa’s eyes were hazy, his mouth hanging open as his chest rose and fell.

“Issei.”

“Mmn…?”

“I want you to watch me.”

Without another word, Hanamaki took him back into his mouth, maintaining direct eye contact with Matsukawa. Matsukawa’s lip quivered, physically unable to tear his gaze away.

Hanamaki sank down, taking more and more of him into his mouth until his nose was buried in the thick curls at the base. Matsukawa wasn’t exactly small - quite far from it. Hanamaki had, in fact, spent months trying to train himself to resist his gag reflex, by inching his toothbrush slightly further back every time he brushed. It had been worth it.

Matsukawa moaned thickly. The sight was absolutely filthy - his own cock buried to the hilt in Hanamaki’s throat, with Hanamaki maintaining eye contact with him throughout. The whole thing was almost pornographic. 

Then, without warning, Hanamaki swallowed around him. Matsukawa bucked his hips involuntarily with a cry, dragging a satisfied moan from Hanamaki, which in turn vibrated around Matsukawa’s cock.

Fisting his hand in Hanamaki’s hair, Matsukawa spoke, barely able to keep it together.

“If you keep that up, I…”

Hanamaki understood. He reluctantly dragged himself off Matsukawa’s cock again, pressed another kiss to the tip, then licked his lips. As much as he wanted Matsukawa to come, he didn’t want this to be over that quickly.

Hanamaki moved back up to the bed, sitting beside Matsukawa and tipping his head back for another kiss. His own pants were still annoyingly present, and he fumbled with the zip, shucking them and his underwear off and onto the floor.

Matsukawa, determined to not let Hanamaki do all the work, immediately wrapped his hand around Hanamaki’s cock, stroking him languidly. Hanamaki let his head fall back as he sighed, loving the feeling of Matsukawa’s calloused hands around him.

“ _ Lube _ ,” he hissed sharply into Matsukawa’s ear, and Matsukawa paused his ministrations to reach back and grab the tube from the drawer in his bedside table. He looked to Hanamaki for further instruction. 

Hanamaki nipped at his earlobe, voice low. “I want you to prep yourself while I watch.”

Matsukawa shuddered, then nodded his assent.

Hanamaki peeled himself away from him, sitting back at the end of the bed, and waited patiently for Matsukawa to begin. Matsukawa took a deep breath, then changed his position, lying on his back in front of Hanamaki, legs spread. Hanamaki was staring at him like he was a meal, ready to be devoured.

Very conscious of Hanamaki’s eyes on him, Matsukawa flipped open the cap of the tube, then squeezed an excessive amount of the cool liquid onto his fingers, before passing it back. Taking a tip from Hanamaki’s book, he made direct eye contact with him as he trailed his fingers down his stomach, gave his own cock a quick, teasing jerk, and eventually his fingers found his entrance, tracing around it in slow circles. He slipped his index finger in up to the first knuckle with a slight wince, then pushed deeper, curling his finger and stroking himself lightly inside. When he was comfortable enough, he started to pump the solitary finger in and out, and eventually added another with the same careful routine as the first. By the third, his hips were stuttering up, urging him to find his sweet spot. Hanamaki’s eyes were dark as he watched, cock hard and flush against the dip of his stomach, glistening with the lube he’d used to prepare himself in the interim. Denying himself for just a little longer, Matsukawa removed his fingers, whining indignantly at the loss. As much as he got off on being watched, he knew that he’d rather come with Hanamaki buried in his ass.

Hanamaki edged closer, until he was kneeling over Matsukawa, then leaned down to kiss his chest.

“Issei. I want you… I want you so much. I  _ love _ you so much.”

Matsukawa couldn’t suppress a slight grin as he took the opportunity to kiss the top of Hanamaki’s head.

“If you want me, then take me. We’ve waited long enough.”

“Issei?”

“Mm?”

“That was so cheesy.”

“Shut up, ‘Hiro-  _ ah…” _

Hanamaki thrust inside without mercy, the way he knew Matsukawa liked it. He allowed them both a moment to adjust before pulling back out almost completely, only to hammer back in with equal force. So much for the slow and gentle sex they’d been planning.

Matsukawa was reduced to a mess beneath him, looking up at him with desperate eyes as his breath came in sharp pants. He could no longer form words as he reached out, one hand resting on Hanamaki’s back and the other cupping his face. Hanamaki leaned into the touch as he thrust in again, setting a harsh, bruising pace, quickly finding Matsukawa's sweet spot and exploiting it in full.

It wasn’t long before he could feel that white hot coil starting to unfurl in his belly, and he reached down instinctively to form a fist around Matsukawa’s cock. Matsukawa’s face was wet with sweat and drool, his hair plastered to his forehead as he let out a string of unintelligible noises. Hanamaki touching him was all it took to take him over the edge. 

He came hard, ropes of come spilling over his stomach in hot bursts, something like Hanamaki’s name on his lips as he milked him through it. It wasn’t long before Hanamaki’s back arched, following suit and filling Matsukawa with his seed.

After a moment of heavy breathing, Hanamaki pulled out, and was enraptured by the sight of his own semen trickling out of Matsukawa’s asshole. Unable to resist, he leaned down, lapping at it with the flat of his tongue, the salty taste making his still-sensitive cock twitch.

“Oi,” Matsukawa drawled, his asscheeks clenching in response. “Don’t make me want to go for another round. I’ll die.”

Hanamaki smirked, then sat up, shuffling back up the bed so he could lie beside Matsukawa. Somehow unbothered by the unsanitary state of them both, he snuggled into his side, kissing his shoulder. His eyes were fighting to stay open.

“Issei?”

“Mm?”

“Love you.”

 

* * *

 

When Hanamaki woke up later, he found that his body was surprisingly un-crusty. He sat up, rubbing his eyes - clearly Matsukawa had woken up before him and cleaned him up while he was still asleep. He smiled as he heard the clanking of pots and pans coming from the kitchen; the bedroom door was ajar.

He got up and headed to the bathroom, still urgently needing to brush his teeth. He grabbed his toothbrush, bleary-eyed, grabbed the toothpaste… And then caught sight of his face in the mirror. He nearly choked on air when he finally saw the writing on his forehead.

“I LOVE YOU TOO.”

And of course, there was a dick on his cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this. I worked hard on it for three days straight, and it was an absolute blast to write! I couldn't have done it without the help of my wonderful friends Jane (janespendlove @ Twitter/Tumblr), Steph (noblefloweroll @ Twitter/Tumblr) and V (gnetophyta @ Twitter/Tumblr), my wonderful beta! Thank you all for inspiring me to do this, and for encouraging me along the way. 
> 
> If you want to say hi, you can find me @ noticemegenpai on Twitter/seijohstardust on Tumblr! ♥


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